


Thursday's Child

by ijemanja



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-28
Updated: 2005-01-28
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijemanja/pseuds/ijemanja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mother of Simon and River had a part in this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday's Child

They both had friends who were connected to the government - people in the right places. One of them recommended it to her, and she never really considered not taking the opportunity. If her husband did, he never told her. He trusted her judgement and he liked to make her happy, and this was a combination that rarely failed to work to her benefit.

She took everything prescribed her, submitted to endless scans and procedures, and never complained.

Her husband had only one contribution to make. He didn't complain either, only made a few jokes that were, if a little off-colour, at least very clever.

And, "It's a very good program. The best," he reminded her.

Which was the point, after all.

They only asked her a few questions. Her husband left the decisions up to her.

One of them was: Boy or girl?

"Whatever you like, dear," her husband said.

"A boy," she replied. "It's traditional, isn't it?"

It was also traditional to respond, 'it doesn't matter, as long as it's healthy.'

But she had already ensured her baby would be the healthiest, most intelligent, perfect child modern science could create.

And Simon was perfect. Their perfect, firstborn son.

But he was not what they wanted.

Tests were conducted, and it was determined that Simon was brilliant. Amongst normal children, he could even be called exceptional. Compared to exceptional children, however, he was only average. He could even be considered mediocre.

It was a disappointment.

"Never mind, dear," her husband said. "He's wonderful, anyway."

And he was. How could they not adore their beautiful boy? With his father's colouring and his mother's smile, his sweet nature and boisterous childish antics, everything he did was a delight.

"My sweet Simon," she kissed him goodnight, and smoothed his baby-soft hair, and closed the door of his bedroom softly, and went to find her husband at work in his study.

"Let's try again," she said.

"Well, two children would be just right. But," he cautioned her, "don't get your hopes up this time."

She already had. This time would be different, though.

This time, when they asked her, she thought of Simon and said, "A girl."

This time, she did everything they told her to, and a few things besides.

She took everything prescribed her, submitted to endless scans and procedures, and never complained.

She also meditated and drank herbal teas. She consulted astrologists, of both Chinese and ancient Mayan influence. She hired a reflexologist who massaged her feet for hours, and an acupuncturist who aligned her chi. She read poetry aloud and played music endlessly, just in case it was true, and the baby really was listening.

She read all the literature she could find on alternative medicine. One text she consumed with the zeal of a convert, concerning the successful assimilation of technology and spirituality in the healing arts, was written by a doctor named River Al'Tam. And she, who had put all her faith once before in science and had been disappointed, knew it was a sign.

"River, hmm?" her husband murmured, one eyebrow raised.

She called Simon to her side, the boy ever fascinated by her changing condition, to feel the baby kick. She hugged him to her affectionately, her brilliant son, the very best science could offer. Resting her chin on his soft, dark hair, she looked over at her husband.

"She'll be quite the free spirit, I imagine," he continued, "with a name like that."

She ignored the hint of apprehension in his tone. It was inevitable that he would start to question her judgement, but he still wanted her happy, and it was enough.

"River will be anything she wants to be," she replied. "She'll be perfect."

And smoothing her hand over her growing belly, and smiling with secret confidence, she did not add: "And I will be the one who created her."


End file.
